Can they Kick it?
Hear the drummer get wicked
Can the mans really spit it?
You ain't really listening, B
Everything I spit is Vitamin D
Eyes bloodshot red with a vision of green
Bruck-pocket, but fuck it
I'm living the dream
Looking goofy like Steve Buscemi
With a short like Shilpa Shetty
Silver tongue like a steel machete
Guts hanging out your belly like spilt spaghetti
Money flying like hundred dollar bill confetti
I've got the militant cartel
Who'll empty your wallet like a Phillie cigar shell
My name ringing an alarm bell
The stake through a vampire's chest
Every lyric is heartful
I bring them the hard sale
The coke in the cooler
Bring me the Martell
You're all toys like Mattel
Give me two sheets
I roll a joint like an L
I roll an L M N O P
Whenever I please
Whether lemon cheese
Or the peng is Lebanese
Trees from across the seven seas
The illest shit the world has ever seen
The war chief with a million militias
Billy is malicious
I'll be doing this
Till I'm living in a million dollar villa in Maresias
Kill a lyricist, and leave him swimming with the fishes
Doesn't victory taste delicious?
He died of circumstances suspicious
But insignificant evidence to prosecute
I make the impossible possible
Billy leap-frogging every obstacle
What do I got to do to get a beer around here?
Boy up the promoter
Clip him around the ear on some mum shit
You're on some dumb shit
You'll get confronted
Are you really feeling the beats?
I'll hit you with a drum stick!
One sick son of a...
A hell of a hullabaloo
My head like a helium balloon
My ego is out of control
Off the leash, capiche?
Blood, sweat, and elbow grease
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